Pretty In Pink
by megStone
Summary: When the gang bails on the Buffster, Spike decides to step up, and earn back a bit of trust.


Pretty In Pink 

One

The sun was coming up. Spike could feel it before he could see the rose fingers of dawn creep over the edge of the horizon. He looked across from him at the blond girl who lay stretched out on the hammock beside him. They lay with each other's feet at the others head. He could not help but smile at her child like appearance when she slept. It was the first time he'd really felt near to her since he'd gotten back his soul.

He could not believe the night he'd had. Little ripples of something like warmth trickled through is body as he re-memorized every line and curve of her face. She's so beautiful, he thought. Her pink dress fluttered ever so slightly in the cool breeze of twilight. The sun was coming up. He had to go inside, and he wasn't going to leave her here to wake up alone. He wasn't going to leave her side. Not if he could help it. The emotion inside him welled up as he looked at her. He wanted to watch the sunrise and catch the golden shimmer of her hair and light up her face. But he could never do that. It doesn't matter, William, he told himself. You're with her now, and she's beautiful now, and that's what matters.

He carefully got off the hammock, preventing it from rocking too turbulently. Buffy made a small noise, but didn't awaken. Spike slipped his arms underneath her and lifted her effortlessly. Her head rested in the crook of his neck as he carried her up the porch stairs and into the house. He walked through the kitchen to the living room where Andrew lay on the couch curled into a ball making noises in his sleep. Spike shook his head as he passed by and could not help but grinning. What a loony bin this house was.

Up the stairs he carried her, passed rooms where he knew the rest of the house hold slept peacefully. He came to a halt in front of Buffy's bedroom door and pushed it open with his elbow. He carried her to her bed, using one hand to pull back the covers. He laid her gently down and covered her with the comforter. She stirred as he drew back.

"Spike?" She asked sleepily, not opening her eyes. He stopped his exit and turned.

"Here, love."

"Stay?" Spike knew that if he'd had breath it would have caught in his throat. He lowered his head and rubbed his neck. He nodded. Removing the black suit jacket he wore, he sat down against the wall, across from her bed. Buffy's eyes opened and she looked at him sleepily.

"Spike?" He met her stare and fought the desire to crawl to her and touch her face.

"Yeah, pet?"

"Thanks for last night. And... for being here." He nodded.

"That's what I'm for."

She smiled and closed her eyes. Spike could tell form her breathing that she had again fallen asleep. One pink shoulder strap from her dress slipped down her arm, and her blond hair was mussed slightly. She was perfect. She was safe, and that's all that mattered right then. Only now did Spike allow himself to drift into his own thoughts.

Two

The Day Before

"Ow!" Buffy examined her nail closely. "Icky vampire guy! If you weren't here, I wouldn't have to stake you, and I _wouldn't_ have ruined my manicure!" She glared at the pile of dust before her. "A guy could make a killing creating nail friendly Slaying implements."

Pocketing the stake in her hand, Buffy began humming as she walked through the stillness of the graveyard. She reached into her pocket for her nail file. As she filed, continuing to walk, her cell phone rang.

"Buffy." She said.

"Hey Buffy, it's Willow."

"Hey. What's up?" Buffy blew on her nail. "I bet you're calling to tell me that tonight is off, right?"

The Scoobies had decided that one night of carefree normalcy was a good thing to have before the "war" began. They had all decided to go out to a formal dinner at Chinoahs. Getting Giles to go along with it had been hard.

"Haven't you all learned anything? Don't you remember when you all tried this a week ago? Xander nearly became anemic!" Xander had cringed and tenderly touched the healing wound across his stomach.

"Giles, we need a break," she had said. "One night, a definite calm before the storm. Maybe even show the First a thing or too. That we're not afraid of his, her, uh, its skanky butt, if in fact it had a butt. But yeah, we're going to go out to a fancy dinner at Chinoah's, and _you _Mr. English Cranky Pants are going!"

"Well I... did you say Chinoahs?" And that had been that.

Buffy smiled as she remembered. Willow stammered.

"Well, um, uh, Giles got a call about books coming in on the First and minions and all that, and Xander's stomach has been hurting him, so he just wants to stay home and relax, which we both know means watch The Man Show. And Anya is sulking as usual and taking inventory of _everything_ at the Magic Box. Dawn is going out with some friends."

Buffy sighed, sitting on a gravestone. "Well it could just be you me and Kennedy."

There was a pause and Willow coughed.

Buffy rubbed her eyes. "Okay, okay, I get it. If the world doesn't end next week we'll try again, Ok?"

Willow's voice was relieved. "Thanks Buffy, we'll make it up to you I promise." Buffy smiled on the other end.

"No problems, Will. Have fun tonight."

"You two. Bye!" The phone clicked off. Buffy snapped her cell phone shut and stuck it into her jacket. She got off the grave stone and began to walk home again.

"Just another night of fun doing absolutely nothing!" She said to herself.

From behind her came the familiar noise of a new vampire trying to sneak up on her.

"You know, I remember when you guys were all stealthy. What ever happened to that?"

As the vampire snarled and lunged at her, she whipped around; kicking it on it's back. It fell, giving her time to flip the stake from her pocket into her hand and brought it down into his chest. He dusted and she straightened.

"Dammit! Not another one!" She frowned at her nails, another of which was broken.

"Stupid vampires." Withdrawing her nail file and replacing her stake, Buffy walked home.

Three

Spike walked slowly, enjoying the breeze that swirled around him, blowing his black coat. The wind gave some feeling to his room temperature body. It was the first mild night in a long while and Nature was waking up. Spike could smell it. On nights like this, Spike's soul left him in peace, though he could still feel it strumming the pain anthem of all the destruction he'd caused. He put a hand on to his chest briefly and then jammed it into his pocket. His other hand clenched a paper bag with a container of pig's blood, fresh from the butcher.

Spike lit a cigarette as he turned the corner to the street where Buffy lived. HE walked through the back fence to go through the kitchen to his basement.

"Honey, I'm home." He muttered. However, as he came into the yard he stopped. Buffy sat on the porch steps filing her nails. A closer examination of the scene showed that she was crying soundlessly, crystal tears running down her face in the light of early dark.

"Buffy?" Spike asked cautiously, aware that the First was till around.

Buffy looked up and Spike relaxed half an inch. "Spike. Um, hi." She pocketed her nail file and hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. Spike tried to mask his worry, but his voice betrayed him.

"What's wrong, pet? Everything alright?" He sat down next to her, careful not to touch her.

"Yeah, everything's fine. It's great."

Spike cocked an eyebrow at her. "Right and you really just had something in your eye."

Buffy smiled, deflated.

"It's just, tonight was supposed to be... group-e. We were doing BigFunGroupTown. Then it could have been Datesville. But now? Now I'm looking at PatheicLoner Island. Again."

Spike furrowed his brows. "I'm just going to go right out on a limb here and say that means the Scooby gang dinner party has nicked out on you."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, better things to do, I guess. I just. I just wanted this. There's so much going on right now: with the First, and Wood, and Faith, and _you_. We needed a break." She sighed heavily, wiping more tears away that were threatening to spill from her eyes.

Deciding to skip mentioning that he had not been invited to the gathering, he fixed her with a glare. "Hey, hey no Slayer. Bullox to them. You go out on the town yourself. Party, ya know? Find some hot young thing and have it up. You deserve to go dancing or something."

Buffy shook her head, but grinned.

"God, you know, in theory, that sounds so good. But you know what would happen."

Spike's expression showed that he did not. "No, enlighten me."

"Well, I'd go out on the town and something would attack. I'd have a party with the fun drinking and then find out that my beer was cursed, turning me into the oh so attractive Neanderthal woman. I'd find some 'hot young thing' and he'd be evil. Or get killed by something evil. And dancing? The last time I danced turned out very badly." She smiled and shook her head again, then buried her face in her hands. Spike smiled as well.

"Well, that's enough for the convincing, love. You are going dancing tonight. And I'll take you myself." He realized what he was saying and felt the tension rise between them. Buffy paused.

"Spike, I, I think-"

"Hey now, just a gesture from a friend. No hard feelings and no secret intentions. You need a break and I've got nothing better to do." He tried to make his attitude nonchalant but silently he begged her consent. She thought about it and he began to stand up.

"Spike." She said, looking up at him. "Let's do it. Let's go dancing. Just as friends."

Spike nodded. "Alright then. Give me forty-five minutes and I'll meet you downstairs in the living room."

Buffy smiled and stood up. She walked passed him into the house. Not sure what she was getting herself into, she walked up the stairs of the house and into the upstairs bathroom. "Well," she thought, turning on the tap and beginning to get undressed, "At least I already know he's not human. Not so much with the surprises... I hope."

Four

"I hate to say it, but thanks Harris." Spike said as he turned to survey himself in the mirror, seeing nothing. He shook his head at his own stupidity and then looked down at himself in the black suit.

Xander sat in a chair eating Doritos. "How do I look?" Spike asked.

Xander eyed him warily for a moment, but then with slight admiration. "Well, and I hate to say this Oh so much more, that suit looks pretty good on you."

Spike grinned, not able to resist. "I'm sorry Harris, I don't swing that way."

In response, Xander scowled. "You could only wish to get as good as me. So glad you could stop by, time to go now." Spike moved away from Xander as he ushered him out the door lest the chip think violence was his intent. "Wait... keys!" Spike asked. Xander shoved them into his had but stopped the door before Spike could exit.

"Spike, if you hurt her in anyway, and I'm not talking about my car right now. If you do anything that may be considered in any place in anyway at anytime something that she might not like, I'll hunt you down and whether or not you can overpower me will not matter. You will be a faint memory and your only enemy will be a vacuum cleaner."

The thought of a biting sarcasm of a response crossed Spike's mind, but he quelled it.

"I am warned. This is her night, Harris. We're going as friends, that's all."

Xander allowed Spike to open the door, and against his better judgment backed away so he could exit. "Good. Keep it that way, sunshine."

"No problem Happy Meal. Have a lovely night."

Xander grimaced. "You're welcome!" He called won the hall after Spike. Then he returned to his couch and turned on the television. "Hope she knows what she's doing."

Spike hummed to himself as he walked hurriedly down the hall, down the stairs, and out the door of Xander's apartment. It had the potential to be a good night, he thought as he opened Xander's car. Oh God did he hope it would be a god night.

At the Summers' residence, Buffy was removing her third dress and reaching for the fourth. She had been hesitant to wear this one. She bought it two years ago for a formal dinner that Riley and she had planned, but had never gotten a chance to do. She slipped it on.

The dress was pink, the dark pink of the setting sun and went surprisingly well with her olive skin. Her green eyes sparkled exceedingly bright, set off by the color of the dress. Reaching into her closet, she found a part of matching heels and a white shawl. Her hair lie in soft ringlets around her face and rested on her shoulders. The dress fell to her angles, just below the strap of her shoe and had a slit up the knee. She twirled in it and then stopped, feeling foolish.

"For goodness sakes, Summers, it's _Spike!_ Former nemesis turned pesty type turned obsessive sex bunny guy turned soul filled... friend?" She studied herself in the mirror and sighed. Her thoughts went back and forth. She didn't want this to be another time she used him. He deserved better than that, after what he'd done for her. But maybe this wasn't using him. Maybe this was just was it appeared, a dinner and dancing with a friend. He was just a friend.

"Maybe more." She whispered at her reflection.

Five

Spike sat on the couch. He had no clue where anyone else was, and he didn't care. He did know that Buffy was in the house, in her room, getting ready to go to dinner with him. Well, maybe.

He looked at the clock that sat on the coffee table. Fifteen minutes after the time Buffy had said she'd be down, she was not. Spike sighed. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea. Maybe too awkward, too soon. His temper grew sourer with each passing moment and he stood up and began to walk about the room. Finally ten minutes later Spike could not make himself wait any longer.

"Bugger this!" He said, and began to walk toward the front door.

"Ah-hem." A voice caught his attention and he whirled around.

Each studied the other, for the moment both were speechless. Neither had ever seen the other so astoundingly elegant. A smile crept over Buffy's face, as she looked Spike up and down, walking down the stairs.

He wore a black suit, with a black, apparently silk dress shirt with no tie. His hair was less severely gelled and it was spiked into mild curls rather than slicked straight back. His dark eyes twinkled with something like merriment.

"My, my, William. Don't you clean up awful nice?" She stood a good two feet from him still studying.

Spike found his words again and thought it a good time to use them. "And you as well, Summers." His eyes swept the frame of her body and he added, "You look lovely."

Buffy was pleased and it showed. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Us girls, you know, we do that."

Spiked sighed in mock exasperation. "Yeah, I remember." He offered his arm. "Shall we go then?" He asked with a rise of his eyebrow.

"We shall." Replied Buffy with a slight curtsy. She surprised herself with her own light heartedness. Spike too felt shocked that she was so friendly in her treatment of him tonight.

"I'll not abuse it." He thought to himself. Tonight they would dance. He was sure of that.

Six

"So." Spike said as the two drove to town. He took note of her face as she looked around the car. Buffy realized the reason she recognized the car was because it was Xander's. "He knows." Spike said, reading her thoughts.

"Oh. Right." She smiled, slightly embarrassed. "So, you had a question?"

"Yeah. Do you still want to eat at that restaurant? Chinoah's right? "He looked at her from the corner of his eye, catching her expression. She smiled and nodded excitedly.

"Please. I mean, can you afford? Because I have money."

Spikes pride was wounded and he scowled. "I got it Slayer. Saved money a plenty."

Realizing that she had hurt his feelings Buffy nodded. "Right, of course."

The two arrived in front of Chinoah's. Spike handed the keys to the valet and walked to the door of the fine restaurant. The maitre de, a tall red headed woman, stood at the podium wearing a composed smile.

"Ah, bonjour. Reservations?"

Buffy stepped forward. "Yes, Summers." The hostess looked around Buffy and Spike.

"The rest of the party?"

"It will be just us tonight." Said Buffy, almost apologetically, responding to the woman's haughty stare. The look made Spike's blood boil.

He stepped in front of Buffy and stood along side the hostess. A fear flood Buffy's body that Spike might start something. But this thought melted away like butter as she heard Spike speaking to the waitress in a confident and well-pronounced French. A stream of words poured from his mouth and the haughty expression on the hostess's face faded to one of respectful apology.

"Oui, monsieur. Pardon-moi. Ce direction, s'ils vous plait."

Spike winked at Buffy's shocked expression as they followed the woman to a two-seated table near the back of the restaurant. The hostess bowed and left as a waiter appeared and seated Buffy. Spike sat across from her and looked around, a satisfied expression on his face. The waiter left after providing the two with menus. Buffy leaned forward, conspiratorially.

"Spike, sine when do you speak French?!" Spike chuckled to himself and folded his hand son the table.

"Traveled the world for over a hundred years, pet. Spent a good amount of time with Darla and Dru- who, while they aren't exactly the pictures of ladies, insisted that we all learn French and Italian. Angelus..." Spike stopped realizing whom he was talking to and what he was talking about. Buffy noticed his awkwardness but motioned for him to go on.

"Angel learned German as well. I thought he was a bloody nut, but it came in handy when we had an angry mob of Germans trying to lynch us. But yeah, I know French pretty well."

"I'd say so!" Buffy exclaimed.

The pair opened their menus. Spike scanned the list searching for certain items and found them. Satisfied, he snapped the menu shut and watched Buffy peruse.

Her face was alight with what Spike hoped was pleasure. Her soft blond hair wisped along her neck and across her face. The pink dress hung perfectly on her body. She looked elegant and beautiful. He half smiled.

"Remember the last time you were all fancied up with me?" He asked, grinning deviously.

Buffy looked over her menu, wearing a grin to match his own. "Why yes, yes I do. I recall that you were trying to kill me while Ethan Rayne had me all 'damsel in distress'."

Spike nodded. "Almost did too."

"I was a little girl!" Buffy said, her voice rising in indignation. She kicked him under the table.

"Ow!" He said, laughing and rubbing his shin.

"And still I kicked your... Derrière." She said, noticing the way Spike's eyes danced when he laughed, the way his sharp cheekbones made his face look more handsome. He was quiet a moment and then said, "Glad we didn't. Kill each other, I mean."

Buffy met his eyes and they looked at each other in silence before Buffy broke the moment.

"Well, it's early yet."

The waiter came and asked for the order. Buffy listened in awe as again Spike spoke a long string of French. She then stammered her order.

About fifteen minutes went by and Spike watched and listened as Buffy talked about times before his arrival in Sunnydale, the multitude of mishaps that had occurred, and how many times she and the Scoobies had saved the world. Then the food arrived. The waiters removed the silver coverings and Spike and Buffy examined their dishes. Buffy was interested to see what Spike ordered and craned her neck. She frowned slightly.

"Spliany?" She asked.

"Steak tartar, pet. Bloody steak. High class dining for a creature of the night." He smiled down at his plate and Buffy made a face.

"Yuck!"

Spike looked over at her plate. "Yeah and you enjoy your dish better?"

"After a month of the fun freezer Pizza Pockets and Kraft Mac and Cheese? Yes please!" Her own meal consisted of a pre-cracked lobster, butter, and grilled mushrooms. She stuck her fork into a piece of the tender flesh and put it in her mouth. Her eyes glazed over as the rich flavor swept along her tongue. Spike watched her face contort with pleasure and he smiled his own smile.

"Good?"

Buffy opened her eyes, a little ashamed and nodded. "Much with the yummiest! Yours?"

Spike sliced into his beef and took a bite.

"Other than the complete lack of taste due to my complete lack of usable taste buds, it's quite good. Bloody, just the way I like it."

Buffy scrunched her face. "A world of yuck."

Spike grinned. He swirled the blood on the plate and then taking his wine glass, he poured a little on the steak. "For kick."

They finished their main courses and Spike looked expectantly at Buffy.

"Does the lady desire dessert?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded vigorously. "Can I? I saw a chocolate cake on the menu that is calling my name from the kitchen. I can hear it right now."

"Buffy... Buffy..." Spike said in a faraway echo. This exhorted a giggle from Buffy. He held up a finger as the waiter came for the plates.

"A slice of the chocolate cake for the lady, and another glass of this fine red for myself."

"Oui, monsieur." The waiter nodded and hurried off.

Buffy sat back, impressed. Spike had never truly shown a gentlemanly side. But now, his confidence was apparent and in his handsome suit, he fit into the scenery. Not even Angel had ever commanded this much of a gentleman like stature.

Spike noted Buffy's expression, almost reading her mind.

"This used to be my world. I wasn't always my presently dark and bad ass self. For a long time, my whole _life_, I was just William. William the Bloody Awful Poet, that is."

Buffy was shocked into silence for a moment. Spike had rarely ever spoken about his past in depth and when he had, it had been after he was give money, and to relate violence.

"Who were you?" She whispered.

He looked away, shaking his head. "I was a weak man, Buffy. I was a pathetic creature. When Drusilla found me, when she saw me and took me, I knew what she was, I knew. And I let her have me because I didn't want to be weak anymore. I left my soul behind and pillaged and murdered and did atrocity upon atrocity for a hundred years. And I'll never be done paying for it." He fought back tears; he refused to cry in front of her. But in his mind, scenes flashed through of a weak hearted William- a "bloody awful" poet, being mocked and refused. Spike shook his head. He wasn't that man anymore. He wasn't a man at all. But with his soul, he wasn't a monster either. He knew that if he looked into her eyes, he would see Buffy's pity and he could not take that at this moment.

So he watched the waiter approach with the cake and wine. The little man set them down and poured the blood red liquor into the glass.

"Merci." Spike said, this time with his British accent. This caused the waiter to from and he huffed away. After a heavy silence between them, Spike pointed nonchalantly at the cake.

"So, are you going to eat that or what?"

Buffy cracked a smile and picked up her fork. The silver sliced through the dark chocolaty flesh of the cake and she lifted a bite to her mouth. This time, the superb flavor of the cake caused her to close her eyes.

"MMMM!" She let out a squeal.

"Goodness, Slayer, keep it down, won't you? People are going to think more than chocolate cake is going on back here."

Buffy giggled, wiping a smudge of chocolate from the corner of her mouth.

"This is so good. I can't believe I've lived in Sunnydale for seven years, been here four times, and am just now having this!"

Her delight warmed Spike more than the wine he was imbibing.

"Glad you like it." He sat back in his chair, cradling his wine glass, sipping at it as he watched her finish the cake. Once done, she set her fork down.

"What, not going to lick the plate?"

Buffy made a face and roller her eyes.

"Why Spike," she said, using a finger to wipe left over chocolate from the plate. "That would be rude!" She put her finger in her mouth, defiantly, just as the waiter came to take the plate away.

"You are a beautiful man." Buffy told him as he walked away. The man stopped and looked back. "Pardon?"

"She means compliments a le chef, garcon. Merci."

"Oui monsieur. Mademoiselle." He bowed his head and stalked off towards the kitchen.

"You know," said Buffy. "They weren't kidding about the French being the picky snooty types."

Spike smiled toothily. "They're a lot more humble when you've got your fangs to their throat."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Do not finish this story."

"Yes, m'am!"

The check came and Spiked looked it over. Suppressing the desire to whistle in amazement, he withdrew from his wallet a sizable sum of cash and put it into the check's billfold. Spike answered the look he received from Buffy with mild indignity.

"No, I did not knock over a bank."

Buffy shook her head.

"I said nothing!"

Spike stood up and walked around to help Buffy from her chair. She looked up at him, perturbed.

"I can get it, thanks."

He backed away, hands up. "Sorry, gentlemanly clothes fluke won't happen again."

Buffy knew she had hurt his feelings, but said nothing in apology. Perhaps it was better to keep him at a distance.

They walked out side by side and the hostess smiled an obviously fake smile at Buffy, then turned her eyes to look seductively at Spike. He ignored her coldly.

"Aurevoir, monsieur, mademoiselle."

"Bye." Buffy said with fake cheer. "Wench." She muttered as they exited. This caused Spike to look over at her in mild surprise. He snorted a laugh. All of this would've been worthwhile, for that single moment.

Seven

"So, oh gallant provider of fun, where are we off to next?" Buffy fiddled with her bracelet and watched the scenery pass by.

Spike drove on down the road, a song playing in his head.

"I promised you dancing, didn't I?"

Buffy tilted her head in consent but was still confused. "I thought that meant a trip to our friendly local Bronze."

Spike shook his head. "For one, Nibblet is there, I'd bet my... unlife on it. And two, I'm not exactly leaping up and down to listen to the Digital Meltdown who happen to be playing there tonight. Not my type of tune, savvy?"

Buffy grinned. Her mind flashed images of Spike trying to rave dance to techno, and then she laughed.

"Stop it! I looks ridiculous in my head, it's got to look about ten times worse in yours."

His protestations just made her laugh harder and she put a hand on her stomach. Spike tried not to, but her laughter was infectious and he joined her. In a moment, they both regained composure and the car sped on in silence until it stopped on a street Buffy had never been on. Groups of young people in elegant dress walked by, and boutiques and bars and clubs lined the sidewalks. Spike turned off the car and walked around to let her out. She got out and ended up standing with her nose almost pressed against his shoulder.

Her bright green eyes looked up into his brown ones and the two stood still for a moment. Then Spike coughed, breaking the awkwardness and moved out of her way, shutting the door.

"So." He said, straightening his suit jacket. "Clubbing, then?"

"Please, let's." Buffy said, picking up one foot to reveal her foot. "Got my dancing shoes on and everything."

Spike led her down the road a bit before they stopped in front of a tall building where the gall glass windows were covered in heavy maroon velvet. A violet neon sign displayed the name, "The Velvet Underground." The bouncer, a tall white man wearing a black tuxedo and an eyebrow ring watched Buffy with something like hunger. Spike fixed him with a dark glare and the man averted his gaze.

"The name's a little... ripped off. But the music's decent, has a mostly human cliental and no one that would recognize you or I." Spike said. Buffy was satisfied and they moved through the door, which the bouncer opened without question. He nodded at Spike as they passed, to which Spike responded to by looking the young man up and down and curling his lip.

He followed Buffy into the club. Music thundered from an enormous sound system located down stairs. The entry floor however was a series of well-decorated bars. High backed red velvet stools accompanied jet-black marble finished countertops where servers tended many patrons. Men and women stood around in groups or sat at the bars, talking, drinking, singing, and laughing.

"Shall we enjoy a beverage before we venture into the pit?"

Buffy nodded. "I think so." They walked to the right of the staircase to the bar. Spike turned to her.

"What's your poison, ladybird?"

"Umm...Shirley temple, dirty dirty." Spike grinned. The bartender walked over in answer to Spike's summons and he gave her order and one of his own for a sidecar, no rocks.

In a few moments they had their drinks.

"So," Buffy began after taking a deep draught from her glass. "What is this place and how did I not know about it?"

Spike half smiled and a slightly ashamed light crept into his eyes. "Remember the broad I brought to Xander's not a wedding? She recommended this place to me. She was into a lot of bands from an era I was big, so...yeah. That's the music they play here."

"Like... the Velvet Underground?" Buffy suggested.

"Oddly enough, I've been here about four times I can remember and never heard any of their songs. But they play some other stuff: The Ramones, Clash, Bowie, Furs, some new stuff too."

"Sounds interesting. Not so knowledgeable about all that. I was a bit young when all that was 'in'. Know a little about Billy Idol due to a strange phase I went through where 'White Wedding' was my theme song." She trailed off as Spike knitted his brows together in a deep frown.

"Git."

Buffy realized her mistake. Spike was extremely touchy about Billy Idol. Though she didn't want to make him angry, her curiosity was sparked.

"Yeah, what happened there?"

Spike rolled his eyes and took a drink from his Sidecar.

"I met him when he was a scrawny little bloke of twenty. Think I might have had his ex-mate's girl for dinner. But anyway." He continued hastily. "Bloody great ponce stole my whole look. Made him famous, I did. Did I ever even get mentioned on an album jacket? Slipped into a song? You shouldn't bet on it!"

Buffy could not help but laugh. "Yes, how outrageous. I mean, 'Thanks to broody guy in leather and bleached hair and exceptionally sharp teeth' would've worked so well on an album jacket."

Spike tried to keep his frown but he blew out air for show and sat down on a stool. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He drained the rest of his glass and waited for Buffy to finishers. When the last of the cherry red liquid drained to her through, Buffy grabbed Spikes' hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Shall we dance?"

Spike was taken extremely aback but rose and followed her in something like amazement, down the stairs.

The thought of "This should be interesting" crossed both their minds.

Eight

"Here comes Johnny Yen Again.

With liquor and drugs

And the flesh machine.

He's gonna do another strip tease!"

Down stairs, the Velvet Underground truly came alive. Buffy's eyes flew from one poster to another; they covered the walls. She took in the sights and sounds of an atmosphere much different from the Bronze. While less cozy, perhaps, it was somehow just as intimate.

A bar stretched along the left wall. Tables were cluttered together on the right and directly in front of Buffy and Spike was a large dance floor. Behind that was a platform where a DJ was rifling through records and nodding his head to Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life." Buffy was shocked to see people swing dancing to it.

"Swing dancing to Rock?" She asked.

"People." Spike said, shrugging. He followed her over to the bar. She ordered a diet-coke and he ordered a martini.

"Martini?" Buffy's eyebrows climbed her forehead. Spike knew that if he'd had enough blood, he would have blushed.

"Shaken, not stirred," He a said, in a phony Bond accent. Buffy was amazed at how light his mood was. And she was truly having fun!

After they had their drinks and Iggy Pop stopped playing, the DJ's voice boomed through the system.

"Ladies and gentleman, again I welcome you to Mod Rock Night at the prestigious Velvet Underground. Ladies, have you been abused and used by your man? Have lovers left you lost? Well you haven't been used as bad as Caroline. Drinks are free for ladies from now on and here's my favorite lady in her favorite color by the Psychedelic Furs!"

Music began to play as the DJ's voice died and Spike looked tenderly at Buffy as she sipped her now free diet-coke. He reached over and lifted the drink from her hand, setting it on the bar.

"Time to dance, love."

Buffy's forehead creased as she looked into his eyes. She let him take her hand and lead her to the middle of the dance floor. Try as she might, she could not get her heart to stop fluttering. Spike placed a hand on the small of her back and took her left hand in his. "Move with me." He said. Buffy knew that her body gave her no choice but to obey.

"Caroline laughs and it's raining all day

She loves to be one of the girls.

She lives in the place in the side of our lives

Where nothing is ever put straight.

She turns herself around and she smiles and she says

'This is it that's the end of the joke'

And loses herself in her dreaming and sleep

And her lovers walk through in their coats, yeah.

Pretty in Pink.

Isn't she

Pretty in pink?"

Buffy was like a dazzling pink gem as Spike spun her around and pulled her back to him. Her arm wrapped around his waist and they swayed together. Black and pink together, blond head to blond head, they danced.

In a different world, this would have been two people dancing- one loving the other, the other loving the one. In a perfect world, the emotion and love that swelled in William's soul would have caused his heart to beat ferociously in his chest, the blood pulsing through his veins.

But the world was as it was: Spike was Spike- undead vampire with a soul that he got for Buffy- a woman playing Atlas, carrying the world on her shoulders, who cared for him very deeply but could never love him. Not now. She leaned her head against his chest and heard no heartbeat. She would not allow the tears of simultaneous relief and sadness that dwelt in the corners of her eyes to spill over.

As the song ended with its slurred drum downbeat, Buffy looked up at Spike and green eyes met brown. He smiled at her, half confused, half pleased, and Buffy allowed herself to smile back, expressing only a fraction of the joy inside her.

Then the next song began. And they danced.

Eight 1/2

It was nearly two in the morning when Spike and Buffy left the Underground. They DJ had played one last song, and the two had stared at each other and the cracked relieved smiles. Buffy could barely keep her feet in her exhaustion as Spike walked her up the stairs and out the doors. He tried to ignore the excitement he had at merely her arm intertwined with his.

Buffy giggled tiredly. "Fancy this. I can slay all night, but take me to dance and I can barely keep standing afterwards."

Spike smiled wickedly and touched his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"Well pet, you don't _have_ to keep your feet!" She smacked him with some force on his shoulder.

"Don't start with me, William, I can still put the Big Hurt on you." This exhorted a grin from Spike.

"Oh, I'll be you've still got a couple more rounds in you, Slayer."

They reached the car and Spike opened her door. She slid in, but made him wait to close it while she removed her pink heels. "Woo, feet. Ow!" She murmured.

Spike just shook his head and made sure she was in before he shut the door. As he walked around to the back of the car he sang to himself. "Isn't she pretty in pink?"

Nine

Spike turned on the car radio. Buffy tuned the dial to a preferred station. They joked about music. They talked about books, as if Buffy had time to read. Buffy found out Spike read action novels and teased him mercilessly.

"Just more into the charging about I guess. Never much was into demon lore or the moody classics. I read them like every bloke when they came out, but I spent most of my time destroying things and killing people. Angel was Mr. Arts and bloody Leisure.

Buffy laughed. "Yup, that sounds like Angel. 'I'll sit in my study and read in the dark'!" Spike laughed this time.

"I was more into poetry, when I really read. Met Hemmingway once. Didn't much like the blighter. Met Poe. That man hung with the creepiest bunch of demons I've ever run into. And that's saying a lot. Small wonder to me why he was so dark.'"

Buffy worked to sound unimpressed. "Can't believe you met them."

Nonchalantly, Spike shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. Then, it was no big thing. I was more concerned about reveling in my bad, ya know? But yeah, I guess it was pretty interesting, looking back."

Buffy just shook her head. She caught sight of something out of the window.

"Turn left!" She shouted.

Started, Spike jerked the wheel to the left. The car screeched tire and drove into the parking lot of the Golden Arches.

"McDonalds?" Spike said, his voice full of mockery.

"Hey! Rarely can a girl resist the call of the late night McFlurry. Go to the drive thru."

Spike was vastly confused, but turned the car to the drive thru window. Buffy leaned across him as an unintelligible voice scratched through the speaker. She shouted into the voice box. "Oreo McFlurry, please!" Again, the unintelligible voice spoke and clicked off. Buffy gestured for Spike to move the car forward.

"You'll need two dollars, if you don't mind." Buffy said. Spike bewilderedly withdrew the ones from his back pocket. At the window, a balding, tired, and unhappy looking man handed Spike the McFlurry and shut the window.

Buffy took the frozen dessert gently from him. "It's cold." He said.

"Yes," she replied, using the long plastic spoon to stir the Oreo bits into the milky whiteness. "That's the general idea of ice-cream."

"Ice-cream," Spike commented, shaking his head, "There's a novelty I'm not sorry I missed out on." He pulled the car back onto the main road and headed towards Buffy's home.

"Poor guy. Here, try the texture, despite your lack of taste ability." She held a spoonful of the McFlurry in front of his mouth. Keeping his eyes on the road, Spike obediently took the bite.

"Cold." He mumbled around the ice cream. Buffy nodded and continued eating. They drove the rest of the way home to the sounds of the road going by and the soft music of the radio.

Ten

They walked through the back gate. Stars twinkled overhead and crickets were making their music in the grass. Spike scratched the back of his neck and watched Buffy looking up.

"You know," she said. "I've been out almost every night since I was sixteen. I've done more in the dark then most humans have or ever will. But in all my outside-y-ness, I've barely _ever_ looked at the stars."

Spike caught the note of sadness in her voice. He didn't know what to say, he didn't want to go inside, but he wasn't sure if he should stay.

"Buffy, I had a wonderful time. I'm glad you let me take you out. Thanks for... well, yeah. Guess I'll see you later."

She turned and looked at him. "Don't go yet." Her tone was almost pleading. "Watch the stars with me. Just for a while."

Spike sighed in relief. He walked to the hammock, which lie in the middle of the yard. "This thing, while goofy, looks comfortable."

Buffy walked to the other side. "It's a hammock." She carefully lie down.

Spike, despite his desire to sit next to her and lay her head on his chest, put his head at the opposite end, his knees bent.

There was a lengthy silence where both merely gazed upwards. Spike finally spoke, pointing into the sky.

"Orion's belt." He said. "And that's Cassiopeia. Her king, Cephus. That'd be Draco over there- big bloody dragon. Met a couple of blighters in Greece, trying to resurrect him. Didn't much want that, so Angel and I, we... well, we didn't let 'em." He went on to name more constellations.

Buffy lowered her eyes to look at him. "How do you know so much about stars, Mr. Formerly Evil?"

Spike grinned and Buffy's heart skipped a beat. He was so handsome in the moonlight.

"Well. Before I was evil, I was smart. Big into poetry and stars. And while you may have spent the last seven years outside every night, I've spent the last odd hundred and thirty. Even in the midst of pillaging and killing, one does get a titch bored and look up, occasionally. And, after all, I did live with the 'space-Queen'. When I realized I was the all new Big Bad, I looked up all the time." Motivated by Buffy's intent listening, Spike continued.

"In my day, when I was alive I mean, God was the thing. You went to church, even if you didn't mean it. When I died the demon set up shop. It booted out my soul." He put a hand to his chest. "I can't touch a cross with out burning, can't go into a church without feeling emptier than usual. But then, then I didn't care that God wasn't near me. I was top dog. Sort of."

He was quiet, and then snorted a laugh.

"How bloody wrong I was. A hundred years later, her I am with my soul back and feeling the weight of my crimes. Maybe God knew I was a monster, and sent bigger bads than me my way. I've met other gods of other realms and fought demons scarier than anything you've seen. I've found that we're all in a war. Inside us. It rages between heaven and hell. Just glad I'm not in Purgatory any more."

Buffy wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up again at the night sky. "There was so much peace, Spike." He knew what she was talking about. She had died, she had escaped. But only for a short time. "I was free. No more war inside me. Heaven had won."

Spike touched her fingertips with his.

"You weren't done yet love. It's as simple as that. But maybe soon."

She laced her fingers between his and leaned her head back against the canvas of the hammock.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe right now, I just have to look up and feel the weight."

Spike gazed up at the stars and watched them twinkling in the ether. "You're not alone." He whispered as he felt her fall sleep. The moon shone on her face.

Eleven

(The Next Afternoon)

Buffy blinked as the sun streamed through the blinds. For a moment she was unsure where she was. Then the memory of the night before poured over her like water. She could not repress a smile.

She rolled over and saw that the dark figure that had lingered in her dreams still lie on her floor against the wall. He was asleep, his arm on top of his folded suit jacket, cradling his blond head. His long legs were tucked into his chest. Buffy noted how still he was. That's because he doesn't breathe, she thought.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the window, closing the blinds so that when Spike awoke, he wouldn't burst into flames. She looked at the clock on the bedside table. Noon. As she gathered a change of clothes, she heard the potentials beginning their drills outside. Kennedy's training commands emitted through the walls. Buffy shook her head. What a loony bin this house was. She went to the bathroom, blessedly empty, and shut the door. She turned on the bathroom radio.

"Isn't she pretty in pink?" played through the speakers. Buffy smiled at her self in the mirror. Then she turned on the tap of the shower and removed her long pink dress.

Spike awoke to a particularly loud insult being shouted by Kennedy to a potential. He was amazed that he'd actually slept. Slayer must've danced him harder than he thought. He looked over at her bed to see it empty. The clock read 12:10. He noticed that the blinds that were open the night before were now closed. "Thanks." He said aloud. He rose and picked up his jacket. Walking down the hall towards the stairs, he heard the music playing through the bathroom door, louder than the running water.

"The traffic is waiting outside,

She hands you this coat,

She gives you your clothes

These cars collide.

Pretty in Pink.

Isn't she pretty in pink?

Isn't she?"

Spike smiled, and ran his fingers along the door as he passed. He knew that the previous night would go without discussion between he and Buffy. Too much had passed between them for it to come up again. But he had given her just one night to really enjoy herself, he'd seen the glimmer in her eyes, and that was enough for the rest of eternity. The image of the strong willed blond in her dazzling pink dress danced in his mind as he retreated to his basement.

As Buffy toweled walked into her room after her shower, toweling her hair, she noticed that Spike no longer occupied the spot against the wall. She sat on the bed, fingering the pink dress. The image of the smile, the prominent cheekbones, the strong embrace, his grace as he spun her moved in a swirling dance in her head. She remembered his fingers lacing with hers in the moonlit dark, and the night that he gave her.

He had given her one night, one night just to be her. Just to be a woman, dancing with a man, looking pretty in pink.

The End.


End file.
